Date: Mon, 23 Jan 2006 05:11:58 -0800 (PST)
From: Farrell Mc Nulty
Subject: Detectives Log - Chapter Forty-Three - One of Our Own Goes Home
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE - One of Our Own Goes Home
EDDIE - Permeated by pandemonium, the police station, just hours earlier
the scene of joy, laughter, charity, camraderie, was now an ugly mess.
The children were being rounded up by their caretakers to go back to the
orphanage, our assailant was booked for takin' hostages, double homicide
(yeah, the rookie uniform cop died instantly) and several counts of
attempted murder, me-n-Mike included. I got shot in the hand and it
didn't hurt much, but it was bleedin' pretty good. Turns out it was an
exit wound, piercin' the back of the hand, then exitin' through an area
right below the palm. Holy stigmata. Me-n-Mike called out to each other -
"ya been hit bad?" I showed 'im my exit wound and he was pretty lucky,
too, only gettin' the back of his neck sliced. I guess our shooter just
wanted the two of us outta the way so she could plug her husband. Shooter
- her husband. Sorry, after ev'rything that went down I can't bring
myself to think of who they are, it just rips me apart too much. If I
just think of them as strangers, treat 'em both just like any other bad
guy and victim, I can get through this. It's like the worst punch in the
face I could ever take.
Me-n-Mike were treated on the scene, bandaged up and all, vitals checked,
stuff like, do we know who we are and that kinda thing. I knew. I knew
all too well. We drove ourselves to the hospital since we weren't so bad
off, I had to be checked for possible nerve damage. Your hero is here to
say there was none. The caliber of bullet was too small to do any real
damage - yeah, it hurt like no one can say, they all do, I'm not immune
or anything, and Mike isn't either, but nothin' hurt as much as what
really went down today.
We were released and went back to the scene of the crimes. The boys hung
purple buntin' outside the station and the news was quickly spread - 23
year-old Anthony O'Brien, son of Italian and Irish immigrants, gunned
down while tryin' to stop a shootin' spree. The so-called Chief was in
surgery, but it looked good - he was gonna make it. We had to talk to 'im
at some point, maybe even try to get 'im to resign, or somethin'. It was
the right thing to do. Save face. Maybe if he admitted what's goin'
on-n-took his lumps like a man, he won't be real happy for a while, but
he'll be livin' honestly. Maybe he could start over again somewhere, I
dunno.
MIKE - Me-n-Eddie turned out okay, went back to the police station and
saw the buntin' hangin' out in front. O'Brien's wake was to be the on the
26th and the funeral the next day. Me-n-Eddie was asked to be pallbearers
which was a hell of an honor for us both. They'd dress us in full-dress
uniform. On the drive home from the station, though, I tried to bring
this up to try to cheer Eddie up, but it was no use. He was cryin' all
the way home. I rubbed his leg as I drove and he put his hand on mine and
sometimes looked at me. Aw, God help 'im, the poor boy was all broken up,
it choked me up, too, seein' him like that. I'm kinda chokin' up just
recountin' this. He didn't talk, but he spoke volumes, if ya take my
meanin'. Red, puffy eyes, wet cheeks, quiverin' lips. None of that was
for 'imself, it was all for the boy-cop, the dame in the bathroom, the
kids, that this would happen on a day like today, the sense of betrayal.
When we got back home, the poor boy was just fallin' apart. We got in,
took our coats off, Eddie caught me lookin' at 'im as if to say "I
understand", and he threw his arms around me and sobbed "Oh, God, Mike"
and sobbed heavily. I kissed his neck a few times in between sayin' "it's
okay - it's gonna be okay".
"How can you say that?"
"They got 'er. She's not gonna get off all that easy. Me-n-you-n-O'Brien
saved a bunch-a lives - the kids, the social workers, the Chief."
"What O'Brien's family? My God, he was only 23 years old, same age as me!
That coulda been me! It SHOULDA been me!"
"Whoa, wait a second there - whaddya mean it shoulda been you!"
"He's a cop, he's got people who love 'im, guys who are gonna miss 'im."
"And you don't? - Eddie, my love, don't ya know what that'd do to me if
you died in there? I'd never be the same."
"Neither will his people."
"Which proves only one thing - it just wasn't your time is all. I mean,
you're a detective and a damned good one, too, but this is one mystery
that ain't ever gonna be solved until ya meet yer maker. He was brave, he
threw himself at her when she was firin' away. Ya never know what's in
store for ya. You never know - you could go for years without anything
happenin' to ya - you could be a really old fart like me who happens to
see some boy wonder holdin' his own with a couple-a thugs in some alley.
Ya just never know."
Me-n-Eddie reported to the police station the morning of the funeral and
were given dress blues to wear as pallbearers. Some of the boys who
survived the massacre the other day came up to us - we had some fans, as
it turns out.
"I didn't get the chance to say so earlier, but it was really cool to
have you guys at Toys for Tots."
"Yeah, the two of ya really did a good thing - you guys really saved the
day."
"Yeah, Tony was a good guy. We've all been buddies in the Academy and
somehow found ourselves in the same precinct as luck would have it."
Another blue boy snickered, "yeah, like the Fightin' Sullivans. Who knew
that'd happen to us."
"Can I tell ya somethin', Detective Robinson?"
"Only if ya call me Eddie."
"Okay, Eddie. That was good what ya said about us to the Chief. Us guys
in uniform, we don't really think people appreciated us. We all became
cops 'cuz we care about this town and we wanna do the right thing by it.
When that uniform goes on ev'ry day, I feel like I'm makin' a diff'rence
out there, and it was cool of ya to go to bat for us. Man, I'm just sorry
we didn't all leap in there when the shootin' started."
"I was freaked out - our boss's wife was pointin' a piece at us, I
couldn't believe it, I didn't know what to do, but Tony sure did."
"We mainly just patrol traffic and parkin' and stuff like that, our
beat's been pretty routine for the most part. None of us ever got hit
before, I know I sometimes get a little nervous about that, ya know. Am I
goin' home at the end of my shift, that kinda thing."
Eddie tightened his lip and nodded his head a little. He struck the pose,
spread his legs, crossed his arms and just told like it is.
"Hey, I'll tell ya somethin'. Lookin' down the barrel of a cold steel
piece, you can see the finger goin' back slowly on the trigger, you hear
the pop or the snap, dependin' on if they use a silencer, then BAM - your
skin gets ripped up, the speed of the shot knocks ya right over, but ya
gotta get right back up and show 'em you ain't goin' down so easy. It
always hurts no matter how often ya get it, but ya feel good knowin' ya
stopped a slug from hurtin' an innocent citizen. That look of pure hate
on the bad guy's face, pumpin' that painful piece of poison, the blood ya
shed, it all tells the bad guys you'll stop at nothin' to bring 'em to
justice. Me-n-Mike think about makin' it home in one piece, too, but I
tell ya somethin' - dyin' in the line of battle only means you did
ev'rything you were put here to do. You did good. You did your job."
I was stunned watchin' him tell it like it is. He talked with such
authority. He clutched his chest for a second when talkin' 'bout gettin'
hit. He balled up his fist and pumped it up and down. He squinted and
gritted his teeth when goin' on about the bad guys. I was gettin' real
excited, excited that he picked up on ev'rything I ever taught 'im. He
started off as a great Boy Friday, worked his way up to bein' a great
detective, he's loyal, sticks right by my side, he looks adoringly on me
whenever I confront a suspect, or come up with a crimefightin' plan, or
when we emerge victorious from yet another fight, when I simply dust off
my clothes when I get knocked down. Now I was lookin' on him adoringly, I
couldn't take my eyes off him. I was excited - excited when he said "bad
guys", excited at ev'ry facial expression, ev'ry gesture, excited when he
clutched his fist when wrappin' up his speech, when he stood proud. From
a star-struck boy on the street eager to learn about the life - takin' in
ev'rything I ever said to him, to an invaluable right-hand man, to a boy
I always knew had my back, to a partner, to a lover, to a trusted servant
of the people, to a guileless guardian of good who goes out in the world
every day, givin' ev'rything of himself.
There he stood - tall and proud in a dark blue double-breasted jacket
adorned with bright, brass buttons, his shoulders broad, his chest out,
proudly displayin' a badge, crisp, white cotton gloves, pants pressed to
perfection, shoes that shined like sunlight, so much so ya could almost
see yourself in 'em, all topped off with a cap, polished brim, the back
of it wrapped around the back of his head, his hair square-shaped around
his neck, runnin' parralel with the jacket collar. He was golden. He wore
it with pride. A lump came to my throat when I thought of the injustice
of our havin' been denied admittance into the holiest and most noble
society on the face of the earth. But in our own way, we still fight the
good fight. We're here to serve as long as we're needed, which I hope
will be for a long time yet. Crimebustin' is our life.
The funeral was the most majestic thing I'd ever seen. The long blue arms
of the law swingin' at their side as they all walked into the church and
took their places, a brilliant barrage of blue-boys - broad-shoulder to
broad-shoulder - all heads turned to the preacher, takin' in ev'ry word,
some bitin' their lip, some sniffin', some heads bowed, and yet, some
even smilin'. Smilin' at the memories of meetin' Anthony O'Brien, goin'
for a beer with 'im at the end of a shift, his sense of humor breakin'
'em up, family and neighbors alike all sharin' stories of the good he did
for 'em, helpin' the old guy down the street fix a flat, givin'
directions to a tourist, refusin' a freebie at the 7-Eleven or at the
donut shop, sayin' he makes a good buck and just 'cuz he's out there
servin' don't mean he's gonna take advantage of the goodwill of the good
people of this town. He was a guy with real class. He'd stop at nothin'
to save the all them lives at the station during the shoot-out.
Me-n-Eddie-n-O'Brien were all for one and one for all for that brief,
shinin' moment of justice bein' served.
At the end of the service, the bagpipe players wept out "Amazin' Grace",
and I do mean wept. The strains of the notes brought the message home
that one of their own was leavin' 'em, only to meet 'em all again on the
other side - dunno how much later, though. I remember the preacher endin'
the service by sayin',
"We're not saying good-bye to Officer Anthony Thomas O'Brien, for he will
always live in our hearts, our minds, and souls, and in the memories of
the people he once so happily and humbly served throughout his short
career in law enforcement. No, this is not good-bye, it's more like 'so
long, pal, catch ya later'".
This really brought about the handkerchief rustlin', the sniffin', the
gasps, the catchin' of breath, the tight-lips, the heavin' sobs, the
white-gloved blue arms reachin' out and wrappin' around other bodies in
blue, the shoulders goin' up-n-down, the same white gloves pattin' the
backs of the bodies in blue.
We pallbearers were cued by the funeral director to line up three at each
side as we hoisted the casket among a sea of salutes. We stared straight
ahead.
The crawlin' cop cars brought traffic to a standstill as we made our way
to the cemetery as gapers watched us all make our way down. The burial
was more of the same as back at the church, the cryin' comrades, the
buzz-cut broad-shouldered blue boys holdin' their hats to their hearts,
the bleatin' bagpipes, but there was also the 21-gun salute, and the
playin' of "Taps", for O'Brien was also in the Marines before becomin' a
blue boy. He was proud of the service he provided in the middle-east,
sent home early 'cuz of a slug in the leg. He proudly pinned on the
purple heart and went straight to the police academy 'cuz he had good
inside and wanted to use that good for further service. Incredible. Just
incredible.
Me-n-Eddie went back home and just wanted to be with each other. We made
love with such passion, my cock easin' in-out of Eddie, who received it
with as much love in his heart as I had puttin' it in. We gave ourselves
to each other, and as we came inside each other it was a ritual of true
unity, two great guys comin' together as one man, gainin' strength and
might because of our love for servin' humanity, our love for good, our
love for each other, our love of God.
Bein' a blue boy for a day kinda opened up a can-a worms, but in a good
way. I smiled upon Eddie as I told 'im how proud I was of 'im today,
lookin' real sharp in dress blues, and the talk he had with O'Brien's
survivin' blue buddies. I really love the man he's become under my
tutelage, but ev'ry so often, the naive, innocent, awestruck wide-eyed
boy who grew up readin' 'bout me in the papers, the the same boy who
always looks upon me with adoration, seekin' the truth, knowin' full well
I got his back and givin' me his back, too.
He says, "Mike, ya ever feel ya got cheated, not bein' allowed on the
force?"
"Don't see why I should, kiddo, why ya askin'?"
"Wearin' that oufit really stirred somethin' up in me. I didn't wanna
take it off at the end of the day."
"No good crimebuster worth his salt would".
"Yeah, but they get to put it right back on the next day. We don't."
"Ya know, Eddie, it's a funny thing. When ya dream of somethin', lose it
through no fault of yer own, then go off on your own way, do really good
there, then get a taste of what ya always wanted, then ya realize that
where you are right now is exactly where you shoulda been all the time.
Just 'cuz you don't get to wear the clothes, don't mean you're any less a
cop than those who do. If I didn't have ya 'round, I'd-a been dead years
ago. Who knows, if one of us made it and the other didn't, would we have
ever met? We dunno these things. But I do know this, ya wear diff'rent
colors on the outside, but your heart and your soul are blue."
Suddenly gettin' an idea, I went out to the kitchen, tellin' my boy to
hold his horses. What I was really goin' for was a bottle of champagne I
was gonna toast us with if Christmas turned out all right. I was gonna
say somethin' like "to the
two of us - a couple-a kick-ass cops, a couple of heroes".
EDDIE - As Mike was tellin' ya guys, I wondered what our lives woulda
been like had we made it to the force, and wondered if we turned out all
right. Mike, as always, was very comfortin', very reassurin'. I always
feel good after havin' a real good heart-to-heart with 'im. That's one of
the reasons I love him as much as I do.
I wondered what this idea of his was - he bolted to the kitchen for a sec
while I held my horses. I got up and sorta paced around the room for a
sec, thinkin' 'bout ev'rything that went down the last few days, 'bout
what he just said, and all. Then came a knock on our door. It was the
social worker who punched out the Chief's wife at the Toys for Tots, and
it was the little girl I told to call me Eddie. Mike came out and greeted
the two of 'em. We were happy to see 'em, and all, but wondered what
brought them 'round.
"We just wanted to see if you two are okay. Sarah, here, couldn't stop
crying, so I thought I'd take her over here to meet the two of you."
I knelt down to her height, "Sarah, that's a pretty name - a pretty
little girl, too".
She hugged me 'round my neck and said, "I was real sad about what that
mean old lady did to all of you. I was crying for days."
(Holy heck - she saw ev'rything)
It really hurt to hear that, that our ordeal cost her a Merry Christmas.
I looked her in the eye and said, "look, Sarah, that's really sweet of ya
to say, but there's nothin' to worry about. We all made it through. That
mean old lady's goin' away for a long, long time, she's never gonna
bother you again."
"What about that nice policeman who got killed?"
"Well, we're all very sad about that, and we always will be, but he's in
a much better place these days. He went to Heaven 'cuz his job was done,
and he did it good, too."
A tear rolled out of her eye and down her cheek, I softly wiped it away
with my finger, "aw, please don't cry, sweetie - it's okay - it's all
gonna be okay". She buried her face in my shoulder and sobbed, "I'm so
glad you're okay, Eddie."
"Trust me, kiddo, so am I!"
She giggled and kissed me on the cheek. "Will you come back next year?
Please say yes."
"I'd be more than happy to, if I'm asked to."
The social worker then collected her and said they're goin' to a late
Christmas dinner at the orphanage, to sorta make up for missin' out the
other day, and they're gonna be late.
"Can Eddie and his dad come, too?"
(I laughed for a second, her thinkin' Mike's my dad)
The social worker agreed, "yes, if they'd like to. How about it guys? The
rest of the kids would really like it, and I'd be proud to have you as my
guests after you both saved all of our lives."
I looked at Mike and he said, "sure, be happy to - we kinda do need a
night out"
"Then it's settled. Just follow us in your car, we'll be there in nothing
flat. I'll see you there."
Sarah and the social worker walked out the door and me-n-Mike were
gettin' our coats. I started to head for the door when Mike took hold-a
my shoulder and, not believin' what he just heard, said,
"DAD?"
I just grabbed 'im by the arms and gritted my teeth as I squinted,
sayin', "sometimes, my boy, ya just gotta take one for the team".
"aw, shut up!", he growled, laughin'. We both laughed - that felt good -
real good.